I Am Nyanar
by PlantMurderer
Summary: Spoilers for The Crow A monologue from the P.O.V of Nyanar about himself, The Elidhu,and Hem.


I am. How else might I explain myself and my kin? We are ourselves and the spaces we inhabit. My home, the hills and plains at the border of the Poisoned Lands of Dén Raven, is beautiful and full of life. My home is desolate and empty. Seedlings are springing up again and young animals are returning to my home. All of these things are true because I live in all times. I am my home as is any proper Elidhu.

I am not like Ardina or Arkan. I will not pretend to be anything other than I am. I will not bend to such human ideas as love or mercy. Though I watch the humans, I will not sink to their level or bind my perceptions so that I might be understandable. I interfere in their affairs only when it suites me. Yet from time to time, in one when or another, a human becomes worthy of my notice.

The Songboy, Cai, Hem, whatever name he uses, intrigues me. He was chosen by dark fools who could not believe the worth of the woman that his sister would become. The same fools later tried to trick forces beyond their feeble understanding and, in the typical way of those who try to circumvent prophesy, helped to create the pair that is their downfall. It is written. In any and all possible futures, even those in which one or both of the siblings die, the dark will be pushed back as a result of their actions. The Songboy is good. He has no want for anything other than what fate owes him. He has seen much of the dark but it has only made him more receptive to and protect of the love, the light, that comes into his life.

For a moment, I understand Arkan and Ardina, both of whom found love in humans. If I were a lesser being, a human or a beast, perhaps I might care for this boy, as does the Bard Saliman. Perhaps then I could offer the boy more of what he needs, more than a visit to my home in a time when it was beautiful and untainted, more than a view of time beyond his understanding to soothe a pain that is beyond mine, more than the agonizingly wonderful music that is the Treesong. I am not, however, a being that may care for him, so I offer him what I may and leave the rest for those who can love him and who can embrace the loyalty and love he returns. He is good, but not good enough for me to make the sacrifices that Arkan and Ardina have made for love so that I might be his friend.

To truly care for a human, to hope to be cared for in return, an Elidhu must tie his or her self into the human experience. He or She must bind the concept of time, to see it as humans do, as a river rather than an ocean. He or she must accept concepts such as mercy, right, wrong, evil; concepts that are in every way foreign to our kind. The Elidhu has to ignore and bind up so much of what thay know and perceive in order to relate to the human they seek that a part of them dies with the human, and all that they have known in centuries of existence is foreign and the universe becomes a strange and unknowable thing.

That will not be my fate. I will not love a human, nor count one amongst my friends. Yet even as I say, this I know that there will come a day when the Songboy will die and his face will disappear forever from the futures that are for me just as clear as the present and the past, if less certain. On that day, I will not be able to draw comfort in his continued presence in every moment of time, every when, in which he lived. On that day I will not be able to hide what care I have for him in my desire for the restoration of the Treesong. On that day I will simply morn for what is truly lost, the chance to see him grow and change for another age and a friend that I might have had if I had not been who I am.

I am. I am an Elidhu. I am home, my own home and a home for those who might seek rest within my lands. In alternating times I have been worshiped and feared, and that is alright with me. They are right to fear me, for I am completely unknown to them. I am, and was, and will be until my home and the earth are no more and the Treesong is but a whisper in a dark cemetery for stars. I am Nyanar.

This sprung from my thinking about Nyanar and from rereading the section in the Appendices of _The Crow._

I am extremely grateful for the reviews I've gotten so far, and if you could see the happy dancing and grinning that occurs when I get a review you'd review just so you could point and laugh at the crazy chick who can't dance. Please review, even If you didn't like it, because if it sucks I'd rather have you tell me so I can fix it than pollute the fandom with bad fanfics.

**Thank you for reading this**, and thank everyone who has so far suggested other fics they'd like to see. I'm thinking maybe one or two more character focused one-shots are in mind, then I'll probably get started on a multi-chapter fic. Peace and Happy Holidays, PM.


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